


catch me when i fall (hold me gently)

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Child Neglect, Crying, Established Relationship, Fluff, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Polyamory, Pre-Canon, Sleeping Together, but it's not a big part of the fic, no sex tho, not even kissing :0, showering together, that one match against dateko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They’re losing the set.It isn’t close.Date Tech has already won the first set, and Sugawara doesn’t think there’s any way they won’t win this one as well. He knows he shouldn’t give up hope, and of course he would never stop giving it his all, but- he knows this won’t end well. He never thought he’d want to be anywhere else but on the court, but now he just wants this to be over.--or, Sugawara, Daichi, and Asahi comfort each other after the loss to Date Tech in their second year.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi, Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi/Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	catch me when i fall (hold me gently)

Sugawara sends the ball up. 

It burns his fingertips before flying into the air - into the perfect spot. Sugawara’s practiced this countless times. He sees the ball’s trajectory in his head before it moves: it will go a little higher than most spikers like it, and farther from the net. 

His eyes don’t follow the ball though, but the spiker. 

Asahi soars through the air. He looks powerful. Invincible. The sight is almost enough to rid Sugawara of the sick feeling low in his stomach.

  
  
Asahi slams down the ball. Sugawara thinks he’s never seen a stronger spike. 

It ricochets back down to the floor on their side of the net. A dull thud. 

The two blockers, in white and teal, land in ungraceful crouches. Their teammates cheer. Sugawara thinks he’s going to puke. He swallows it down.

“Don’t mind! Next time,” he calls to Asahi, hoping his cheer isn’t too obviously fake. Asahi doesn’t seem to hear him, though Sugawara is no more than a few feet away from him. Sugawara turns away. 

They’re losing the set. 

It isn’t close. 

Date Tech has already won the first set, and Sugawara doesn’t think there’s any way they won’t win this one as well. He knows he shouldn’t give up hope, and of course he would never stop giving it his all, but- he _knows_ this won’t end well. He never thought he’d want to be anywhere else but on the court, but now he just wants this to be over. 

Date Tech: “the Iron Wall.” A powerhouse school renowned for their incredible blocks, is it any wonder that Date Tech is crushing their mediocre team? Sugawara and the other second years have always dreamed of going to Nationals. Their old upperclassmen never believed in their team’s ability to do so. Sugawara had never realized how much their pessimism had dragged down the team until they had left after Fall Interhigh. Once they were gone, the entire atmosphere of the team had become so hopeful and confident. Daichi, their new captain, has never expressed his doubt in their abilities to go to Nationals in the spring.

Now Sugawara knows that confidence has been misplaced. It’s their second match in Spring Interhigh. It will be their last. 

For Sugawara, especially, this was supposed to be his chance to prove himself. As a second year on a team that already had an older setter, he had never been a regular before. This is his first official tournament. He had thought he was ready. He’d practiced so much. He hadn’t practiced enough.

Every _single_ spike Asahi’s made has been completely shut down. It would be shaking on a good day; for their team (for Asahi), it is devastating. 

The match drags on longer than Sugawara thinks he can stand - not because of his endurance, but because watching the light slowly die from Asahi’s eyes is killing something small inside Sugawara as well. The last point is scored not by a spike from Date Tech, but by one of their blocks of Asahi’s hits. Afterwards, Asahi had just knelt there for a few seconds, breathing heaving breaths, before standing again. 

To Sugawara, it seemed like Asahi had stood as if he was Atlas, lifting the weight of the world. He blames himself, Sugawara knows, for their loss. 

Sugawara also knows that Asahi is wrong. It’s not his fault - it’s Sugawara’s. 

If Sugawara had given better sets, had practiced more varied tosses, had done anything different, better- The setter is called the control tower of their side of the court. They’re supposed to bring out the best in each of their teammates and use them perfectly to fight the other team. Sugawara had failed to do that.

The bus ride back to Karasuno is quiet. It’s not completely silent - there is the sound of muffled sobs coming from the middle of the bus (maybe from their first years. Maybe Sugawara should go comfort them. He doesn’t.), but in their two bus seats, where Daichi and Asahi sit on the left of the aisle, and Sugawara sits on the right, no tears are shed. 

Daichi watches Asahi carefully. A few times he tries to speak to him, but trails off when he receives no response. Asahi doesn’t look at either of them. His head is ducked down, hiding his face in the tall collar of his team jacket, but Sugawara can see enough of it to know he’s not crying. He’s staring down at his hands. His face is very close to being blank, but there is a tenseness to his mouth or maybe an upward twist to his eyebrows that conveys the depth of his pain. 

“Asahi,” Sugawara says. Asahi doesn’t move. Sugawara swallows. Maybe Asahi really does blame him after all. No, he thinks. That’s not true. Asahi is the gentlest, most self-conscious person Sugawara knows. He probably, definitely thinks they are angry at him. 

“Suga, it’s okay,” Daichi says. And Daichi must be hurting too now, Sugawara realizes. 

He’s the captain. Where Sugawara and Asahi take accountability for the team onto themselves because of their positions on the court, Daichi is more literally and tangibly responsible for the team. They don’t have a coach anymore, so it’s Daichi who’s been deciding their training regimens, encouraging them, and generally taking charge. 

Even now, he’s putting on a strong face for them.

“My house after this?” Sugawara asks. It’s tradition by now for them to come to his house after games, whether they lose or win. His parents are always gone on long work trips, so there’s never anyone around to interrupt them. They go there to study as well, or when they just want to hang out. It’s the only place they can all be together in the way they don’t dare to be in public. 

“Yeah. I’ll text my and Asahi’s parents,” Daichi responds. “Can we stay the night?” 

Sugawara nods. This is a common occurrence too. They all sleep squished against each other in Sugawara’s bed. The rare times his parents are around, they drag out the dusty futons from the hall closet for show.

Sugawara sighs, leaning back against the bus seat and staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to close his eyes. 

Every time he does, he sees the ball falling down. He hears it hit the floor. 

\---------

Sugawara and Daichi walk on either side of Asahi. They don’t need to drag him or help him along, he’s walking fine on his own, but he still hasn’t said a word to them or even looked at them. 

Their sweat from the game has long since dried and Sugawara is shivering in the cool night air, even with his jacket on. When they get to his door, it’s with numb fingers that he fumbles with the key before finally slipping it into the keyhole. They stumble inside the cold house. 

Sugawara first turns on the lights before going straight to turn up the heat. He keeps it very low during the day so he can stretch the money his parents give him to last on while they’re gone. It means he always comes home to a cold house, but the cold isn’t so bad. It means he doesn’t have to get a part time job after all, which would make volleyball practice impossible.

He has lots of thick blankets anyway, so he barely even needs a furnace. As Sugawara is turning up the heat and going to make a kettle of tea, Daichi sits Asahi down on the couch and wraps him in his favorite blanket of Sugawara’s. It’s red on the outside and white and fluffy on the inside. Daichi pulls another quilt over Asahi’s legs, goes to the kitchen to help Sugawara. 

Sugawara is leaned back against his countertop. He’s just waiting for the kettle to boil - he’s already set out mugs and teabags. He looks up when Daichi walks in.  
  


“Daichi,” he says. “You don’t have to-”  
  
“I want to.” His dark eyes meet Sugawara’s. They’re infinitely kind. He steps forward towards Sugawara.

“Can I?” Daichi questions. Sugawara knows that if he tries to speak, he’ll cry, so he simply nods. 

Daichi slowly and carefully folds his arms around Sugawara, as if afraid that he’ll break, and Sugawara clutches him back, pressing him tightly to himself. Maybe Sugawara will break, but if he does at least he’ll have Daichi to hold him together. 

When he reaches his hand up to his face after they break apart at the hissing whistle of the kettle, his eyes are wet anyways. He quickly wipes them dry as Daichi pours the water out into the three cups. It’s green tea - the kind Asahi swears warms him up the best on cold evenings or cold mornings. Sugawara always notes aloud that all the tea they make is the same temperature, but Asahi’s never changed his mind. 

They wait another few minutes until they can take the teabags out before bringing the mugs out to the living room. Sugawara carries two; Daichi carries one. 

“Asahi,” Sugawara says in a soft voice as he sets his own mug on the table behind him. “We brought this for you.” He kneels in front of Asahi and lowers the steaming mug into his hands. “It’s hot. Don’t burn yourself.” For the first time, Asahi looks up into Sugawara’s eyes. His face has that same almost-numb, anguished expression that it did before on the bus. This time Sugawara has to face it head-on. 

He’s bad at that. Sugawara will almost always feel the urge to turn and run when faced with pain, whether it is others or his own. 

He feels that urge now. 

Sugawara doesn’t look away.

He reaches forwards for Asahi’s hand and holds it, rubbing his thumb against the back of the other boy’s knuckles.

“Thanks,” Asahi mumbles, breaking the silence as he raises the mug up. Halfway to his lips, his hands, which have been trembling finely since they were on the bus, shake in an strong tremor. 

The tea splashes over the side of the cup, soaking into the blanket below. Sugawara blinks and he’s already taken the mug out of the other boy’s hands. 

“Asahi, are you alright?” Daichi gasps, taking Sugawara’s place in front of Asahi as Sugawara moves out of the way to lay down the cup next to his own. 

Asahi nods, biting back a choked noise as he stares at his shaking palms. They look the same as ever: large, pale, calloused, but Asahi’s looking at them like he’s not sure they’re his own.

“I- I’m sorry,” he whispers. Each word is almost a sob. They all know he’s not talking about the tea. 

Sugawara grabs one of Asahi’s hands in a firm grip and by his side, Daichi grabs the other.

“It’s not your fault,” Daichi says. His voice is so sure that Sugawara doesn’t know how Asahi can respond with denial.

“No, it is.” It’s as if this sentence breaks the floodgates, because Asahi’s shoulders shake and tears begin to stream down his face, slowly at first but soon all merging together and making his cheeks shiny and wet. His hands, encased within theirs, aren’t limp and don’t strain to wrench free and cover his face as he cries. They’re holding onto Sugawara and Daichi as if they’re his lifelines. Even as he repudiates Daichi’s words, he can’t reject their presence.

“It was my hits that were blocked, every single time. I couldn’t get a single one through. I failed you.” The last word is a beat later than the rest. Asahi doesn’t mean the whole team; he’s talking just to Sugawara and Daichi. 

Sugawara can’t help the guilt that bubbles up in his stomach. “No. It’s my fault,” he manages to say, even as he feels his own tears welling up. He knows hollowly that it’s the truth, even if Daichi and Asahi won’t agree. “I’m your setter. I should have done more. I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“No!” The other two cry at the same time. Daichi’s jaw clenches.

“How can you two even say that!” Through his blurry vision, Sugawara thinks he sees wetness on Daichi’s face (solid, dependable Daichi - has he ever seen him cry?). “ _I’m_ the captain. Our loss is on me, not either of you.” 

Sugawara can’t speak through the sobs that now punctuate his every breath. He can only fiercely shake his head. Daichi is wrong. He’s such a good captain. 

Asahi seems to have the same problem as Sugawara, but he fights to take deep breaths and stop crying for a minute so that he can speak. “Daichi you- you and Suga were perfect. You did everything right.” Unspoken is that he believes the opposite of himself. 

Sugawara surges forward onto the couch to wrap his arms around Asahi’s broad shoulders. Asahi’s face is buried into Sugawara’s neck, making it wet with his renewed sniffles, and the height difference would make the position difficult if it weren’t for the way Asahi is halfway hunched over himself sitting on the worn old couch. As it is, Sugawara has to awkwardly kneel, halfway on Asahi’s lap. 

Daichi finally lets go of Asahi’s right hand as he, too, makes his way up to the couch, untucking the blanket from Asahi’s right side to wrap it around his shoulders as well. He puts one arm around Asahi’s back and the other around Sugawara, drawing the two closer to each other as well as himself. The closeness ignites a warmth inside of Sugawara, who leans into Asahi and Daichi’s touch.

Sugawara says, “You were perfect, Asahi.” His words are met by Asahi shaking his head in disagreement against Sugawara’s neck and sobbing louder, his tears dampening Sugawara’s jersey.

Of course, technically, none of them were perfect. In terms of pure volleyball, all of them have lots of room to improve and had made many mistakes during that game. 

To Sugawara, that knowledge doesn’t make his words any less true. Asahi had played to the best of his abilities, and more than that, he had never lost the courage to keep trying even when it became clear that they would not win. 

Sugawara readjusts himself as his previous position becomes too straining to maintain on already exhausted legs. He sits on Asahi’s lap, leaning against his chest and facing Daichi. They’re all sobbing at this point, clinging on to each other for something to anchor them down. Sugawara couldn’t imagine being alone in his empty apartment during this moment. Even as they all cry on each other, Sugawara feels something inside him ease at their presences. 

They understand him. They’re there for him as he cries and he always wants to be there for them in the same situation. 

They love him.

They cry themselves out within fifteen or twenty minutes, and are left raw and wrung out, holding each other. None of them are pretty criers, and it shows with their red, puffy eyes and running noses.

“We should get up and shower.” Daichi finally says. “It’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You’re right,” Sugawara agrees, and Asahi mumbles his assent as well. 

The three of them slowly untangle themselves from each other, the tea forgotten, and Sugawara links one hand with Daichi’s and his other with Asahi’s. They climb the narrow stairs to the bathroom, halfway between single file and walking side by side. Sugawara pulls Asahi to sit with him on the top of the toilet seat while Daichi kneels to turn the water on in the tub. They’re lucky Sugawara’s house has a tub shower because a cubicle shower would’ve been too small to fit the three of them. Asahi leans into Sugawara, and Sugawara cards his fingers through Asahi’s long, soft hair. 

They don’t feel the need to fill the comfortable quiet that has settled over them.

Sugawara and Asahi shuck off their clothes as soon as Daichi tells them the water is hot and not a second before. The house still isn’t what you could call ‘warm,’ even though the heater’s been on for almost half an hour.

Sugawara enters the tub first, then Asahi and last Daichi. They’ve done this enough times that they know how to fit around each other in the cramped space. The three of them stand there for a moment in the hot spray. 

Sugawara closes his eyes and just breathes. He opens them again.

They shuffle around so all of them can wet their hair while Sugawara picks up the shampoo and pours some into his hand. 

“Come here, Daichi,” he commands, and Daichi bends down a little so Sugawara can lather his hair with shampoo before Daichi goes to wash it out. Next is Asahi, whose longer hair takes a few minutes more. Sugawara doesn’t admit that for both of them he takes longer than he needed to, savoring the feeling of his hands on their skin. Their faces, like his, look tired, but there is a warm relief there that exists side by side with the regret-pain-sorrow-guilt that has bloomed in each of them. 

Sugawara thinks that their crying has helped their emotions settle some, bringing exhaustion to the forefront. It’s hard to feel grief when it’s outweighed by leaden limbs and eyelids. Asahi looks worse than Daichi, though. Even taking his mask of strength into account, Daichi’s lingering anguish seems to be tempered with resolve to grow and improve. Sugawara feels the same determination arising in himself. 

Asahi... Asahi doesn’t have that glint of purpose in his eyes, which worries Sugawara more than anything.

Sugawara exchanges a meaningful glance with Daichi as his shampoos his own hair. He knows Daichi has seen the same thing as him. They’d have to take extra care of Asahi.

Asahi grabs the soap and rubs it over his hands, producing a sizeable handful of foam. He approaches Sugawara and begins to spread it over his back and neck and arms, gently turning him around to get to his chest. His hands aren’t trembling anymore, Sugawara notices gratefully. He reaches down to get Sugawara’s crotch and legs. Each sweep of his hands is solid and reassuring. 

It might be an odd thing to take comfort from, but Sugawara does it anyway. 

As Sugawara steps into the shower spray to rinse himself off, Daichi lathers up Asahi in the same way Asahi had washed Sugawara. Next will be Sugawara’s turn to scrub Daichi, so he makes sure to get a good amount of soap on his hands.

Asahi comfortably brushes past Sugawara as they switch places. Sugawara starts with Daichi’s neck and shoulders, not in a hurry but also not going slowly on purpose either. It’s easy to touch Daichi. Sugawara idly notes the differences between them. Daichi’s body is more muscular and broad than Sugawara’s, but only slightly taller. His skin is a little darker, and he has less moles dotting his arms and legs than Sugawara. 

Sugawara methodically works his way down Daichi’s body, feeling it lose some tenseness under his firm touch and the steam of the shower.

Daichi washes himself off and they are finally finished. 

Being closest to the knob, Daichi turns off the water. Mercifully, the combination of the furnace finally working and the steam trapped in the bathroom by the closed door have warmed the room enough that Sugawara doesn’t immediately start shivering, though goosebumps dot his thighs and arms as soon as Asahi pulls the shower curtain back.

Daichi leaves the shower first, dripping onto the tiny shower mat and then on the toilet seat as he reaches over it to grab all three of their towels. He hands two back to Asahi and Sugawara, who towel off in the shower. Afterwards, they wrap the towels around their shoulders (and Sugawara misses when that meant his whole body was covered and warm instead of just his top half, damn it) and pick up their dirty clothes to put in the hamper. Sugawara’s room is just across the hall and Daichi and Asahi each have a few sets of clothes they keep there that they can change into.

\---------

They’re lying under two blankets in Sugawara’s bed and even more securely tangled together than they were downstairs on the couch when Asahi whispers something into the still air. Sugawara doesn’t hear it at first so he whispers back asking Asahi to repeat himself. Daichi hums his agreement.

“I can’t play anymore.” 

“What do you mean? Of course you can play.” Daichi’s puzzled voice contrasts with the icy cold realization in Sugawara. Sugawara knows exactly what he means. None of them have moved from their spots, still speaking softly into the dark. 

“I can’t do this,” Asahi says softly. The lack of resolution Sugawara had seen before in his visage has translated into a terrible dead note in his voice. “I just- can’t.” 

Sugawara is pressed against Asahi’s chest, and wants to pull away so he can look into his eyes, but he can’t bring himself to leave Asahi’s warmth and the arm that is holding him close. Instead, he nestles in closer. He knows Asahi’s emotions are deeper than what can be solved just by skin contact, but he hopes the closeness helps him even slightly.

“This was one game. Next time it’ll go better - for all of us. This game _was_ on all of us, not just you.” Daichi always has the right words, Sugawara thinks. Maybe that’s why he’s the captain.

Despite all of their proclamations of guilt earlier, Daichi is right that their loss can’t be put solely on any one person.

Sugawara can see that now - now that he’s a little farther from the game, and has had the chance to cry out all his unutterable emotions. He still has his regrets, and will use this match to spur his improvement, but he’s not so overwhelmed by them as he was before.

“You don’t understand.” Asahi is upset and his words come out quickly. He pauses, thinking for a second.

“No, that’s unfair. You do understand. You were right there next to me.” By the tone of his voice, Sugawara knows that if he could see his face, he would be met with Asahi’s apologetic, wide eyes. Asahi usually thinks for too long before he speaks, if anything, so saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment is unusual for him. 

“But you don’t know the feeling of hitting the ball and being blocked out like you're useless -” his voice hitches on the last word “- when your _only_ purpose on the court is to spike past the blockers.” Sugawara thinks Asahi is going to start to cry again, but he doesn’t. 

Sugawara speaks gently. “Asahi, we still have time.” They’re only second years. “We can improve. It won’t be like that again.” Sugawara can’t really promise this. He’ll do whatever it takes to make it true, though.

“I’m sorry.” And Asahi really means it. He isn’t apologizing as some empty platitude; he wishes he could be stronger for them, Sugawara knows. “I can’t.” 

“Asahi-” It’s Daichi who is cut off.

“Please don’t try and convince me to play.” Asahi’s voice is pleading. “Please.” His voice breaks.

Sugawara knows they won’t sway him tonight, no matter what they say. It would be cruel to keep pushing him now. More than him and Daichi, Asahi is at his limit.

“Okay,” Daichi breathes out, and Sugawara realizes that he’s said the same thing almost in sync.

“Even if you aren’t on the team,” Sugawara starts. If he can’t reassure Asahi about his abilities, at least he can reassure him of this. “Even if you never pick up a volleyball again in your life, I’ll still love you.” He stops and just feels them. His head is laid on Asahi’s chest and he can hear Asahi’s heartbeat through his shirt. His legs are entwined with Asahi’s and with Daichi’s, who’s on the other side of Asahi. His hand is in Daichi’s. He’s warm. “We’ll still love you.”

“Thank you,” Asahi chokes out. His voice is thick. “I love you too.” The devotion in his voice is staggering, and Sugawara feels it met by his own veritable ocean of feelings for the other two.

“You don’t have to thank us. It’s not a chore,” Daichi’s voice is teasing. “I like to love you.” His voice is light and happy. He’s very sleepy, Sugawara realizes, and upon that thought has to fight the urge to yawn. 

He smiles into Asahi as weariness washes over him.

“I like to love you back,” Sugawara hears Asahi say, as if from far away. He starts to wonder why, but can’t keep his train of thought as he falls deeper into warmth. 

The last thing Sugawara thinks before succumbing to the darkness of sleep is that he loves them so, so much. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally supposed to just be a comforting asahi fic but then it turned into comforting all of them bc the characters had Emotions lol
> 
> hope you enjoyed! this was my first time ever portraying a relationship so i hope it was ok
> 
> btw i changed my summary a few hours after posting if that confused anyone!


End file.
